


As They Watch On

by EldriitchBones



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Angst, Disturbing Themes, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Existentialism, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Original Statement (The Magnus Archives), Psychological Horror, Psychological Trauma, Season/Series 04, Spoilers for The Magnus Archives Season 4, Statement Hunger (The Magnus Archives), The Magnus Archives Season 4
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-16 03:49:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28949943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EldriitchBones/pseuds/EldriitchBones
Summary: There’s a certain feeling you get when you find yourself alone for more than a few days. With nothing but small talk and the friendly “how are you”s staving off isolation, you develop a certain apathy to the world around you. You feel like you yourself are desolate and a wasteland, left for whatever finds you in the open expanses. There’s no word for it really, but you know it when it comes. And it comes quickly.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Kudos: 7





	As They Watch On

**Author's Note:**

> TW: violence and implied gore, if you scare easily it's best not to read this at night, thanks for visiting

_ There’s a certain feeling you get when you find yourself alone for more than a few days. With nothing but small talk and the friendly “how are you”s staving off isolation, you develop a certain apathy to the world around you. You feel like you yourself are desolate and a wasteland, left for whatever finds you in the open expanses. There’s no word for it really, but you know it when it comes. And it comes quickly.  _

_ It’s rare when a person can exist outside of the overwhelming floods of interaction, where that loneliness seeps in, pulling at the back of your head and bringing all of those carefully guarded secrets to the conscious mind. It’s something you can’t ignore by yourself, something that will devour you until those little bits are satisfied with the wreckage they have left you with. That’s the way of living things isn’t it? Things consume and devour until they are satisfied with their progress and then they leave to find more of those bits elsewhere and you are left hollow, a husk of what you were before, feeling empty and more expansive than you could have ever comprehended. I can’t tell you how expansive the mind is when left with nothing but your own thoughts to fill the holes left by that loneliness. Those grey waters are cold and unending entirely.  _

_ I don’t suppose that anything can really cover that feeling. That unending that is both open and crushing simultaneously… and I can’t get rid of it... _

Waking up from a bad dream is never exactly pleasant. There’s still that fear that lingers for a few moments afterward that causes a bit of anxiety. That impending doom that might creep out of your dream and into reality. The lines are still blurred in that state, see. You’re still dreaming a bit when you jolt out of bed and begin to realize you are in an entirely new place. Your senses say that you’re grounded within reality, but then again, there’s that feeling of something else just beyond your senses that seems to have followed you out. Children might stay still for a few minutes after they wake up, or maybe call for a parent. But adults are less cautious and simply remind themselves that it was a dream after all. They turn over and try to forget the terror they had experienced. And that’s the only chance they have before that sense of  _ otherness _ turns into something that will soon become all too familiar.

Jonathan Sims sits up, groggily running a hand over his face in a futile attempt to wake himself up a bit more. The sun is shining too brightly across the floor for it to still be morning in Martin’s flat. Though, it was morning when sleep finally caught up to him. There’s the low hum of a microwave that can be heard from the kitchen and the smell of leftovers faintly making their way to the small bedroom where Jon sits. 

“You up, sleepyhead?”

There’s a groan and the sound of someone falling back into the pillows.

“You slept longer than usual… I’m impressed.”

Martin smiles to himself, hearing the soft padding of Jon’s feet coming to the kitchen. He’d never get used to that, the sounds of someone he loves. It made him smile every time he thought about it. Long arms wrapped around his torso, a head buried in his back as he pulled out the remnants of last night’s lasagna from the microwave. 

“Good morning, Jon,” Martin turned in the Archivist’s arms, giving him the ritual “morning” hug and peck on the head. Jon hummed a response. It had been like this since Jon had moved in, the usual way they greeted each other in the mornings. It was a difficult transition only in the sense that they were both adjusting to some semblance of safety it brought them. There was a security that was found in mutuality. Specifically when it came to sharing the same bed, fears of the self are dampened and you can allow yourself to feel safe and, well, held in a metaphorical sense. That took some getting used to for both of them. Just knowing that you can love and be loved in return provides comfort, a comfort much needed in a field as weird as these two performed in. 

Jonathan Sims finds himself across the table from a man who gives him such comfort, that saves him from any number of things. And that includes himself. Going through a lot in short amounts of time with someone else does something to you. It creates a lasting connection that no matter how hard you try to break away, it clings on. It makes mutuality impenetrable and inseparable, and that’s how they find themselves in this moment. Simply being in each other’s presence, with the future looking dreadful at best. Lifelong fears, proving persistent in the face of a loving existence. Why wouldn’t it? We still watch. 

The recorder turns on, though the Archivist would no longer remember the exact moment he pressed the button on the side. He does know that familiar pang of hunger for more, though, the one thing pushing him forward. The hunger for knowledge is a hunger that has existed through the entirety of human history. Humans cannot help but to want more, to go a step further into the unknown that dictates fear and cultivates a morbid curiosity. As with most things, atrocities have happened all too frequently because of that starvation suffered when someone simply  _ doesn’t know _ . And the best, well you might consider it the worst, things happen when humans are fascinated with their own anatomy and the way their simple minds function. Well, the Archivist begins and we are all utterly inclined to listen to his consumption.

_ Attached: copied excerpts of Dr. Arnold Hatch’s experimental journal, a review of the Germaine Experiment from the Rosenfeld Institute of Psychology, and one (1) brass locket previously belonging to the very same Dr. Arnold Hatch. _

_ December 11, 1962 _

_ Journal of Dr. Arnold Hutch _

_ Today marks one week of the Germaine experiment, as we’ve all decided to call it. As you all well know, this experiment seeks to answer the question of “to what extent to which expected paranormal activity affects behavior”. Hypothesis being that those who are mentally unwell will be more gullible to believing that they are being affected by paranormal activity. For context, I will summarize the week prior. A group of 20 inmates (of nonviolent crime mind you) were graciously submitted by the Rosenfeld Prison. They were accompanied by 5 guards from the prison who we have gotten along well with. The subjects were taken to our personal facilities, The Rosenfeld Institute of Psychology, a building built afresh just a few years back. The subjects were then administered a general wellbeing check up by one of my close friends within the medical field. All were deemed fit for the experiment at which time they were all seen individually to search out any psychotic behavior by residents within the Institute itself. 10 subjects had a record of psychosis which proved, again by resident psychologists, to be true. As a control group, 10 subjects were proven to have no history and no current issues with psychotic behavior. This screening process took up the entirety of the week. There are no unexpected results or those of note thus far. The proper experiment will begin late tonight within the Rosenfeld Institute of Psychology basements. I will provide an update in the morning. _

_ December 12, 1962 _

_ Journal of Dr. Arnold Hutch _

_ The basement rooms were outfitted to match specific rooms within the older house on Thurston Ave. Each subject had their own makeshift room and security camera for monitoring behavior and reactions if there were any to be had. Later next week, we plan to move the subjects to the house without their knowing. The subjects went to sleep early in the afternoon and were woken up at 10pm and stayed awake until 6am in dim lighting so as to provide an ambience for the possible paranormal activity. I might mention that no one has experienced any range of paranormal activity in this building as of yet while there has been a great deal reported within the house on Thurston Ave.  _

_ Each subject followed the procedure with little events taking place. Of course, our previously disturbed group proved more likely to be a bit rambunctious with Fred Wathen and Lyonel Matthius reportedly both seeing a shadow moving around the room. Security cameras tell us that both Wathen and Matthius reacted to these shadows and were obviously seeing something they believed to be real. For research purposes, these were simple hallucinations that both subjects experience frequently. The control group simply occupied their time by reading or sketching with materials provided in every room. I hope that the rest of this week goes according to plan. I will update as things take place out of the ordinary. _

_ December 14, 1962 _

_ Journal of Dr. Arnold Hutch _

_ Last night one of the subjects in the control group woke up around 9:33pm and complained of a nightmare the next morning. He reported nothing else but the cameras taped him staring into the corner by his bed until 10pm rolled around and a guard came to wake everyone up. One of the psychiatrists here took note of the irritation around his eyes.  _

_ December 15, 1962 _

_ Journal of Dr. Arnold Hutch _

_ Two more subjects in the control group reported having awful night terrors, one waking up screaming and the other remaining quite still until 6am. The former was Bryce Thomas, a man in his mid-40s, who reported his dream to feel as if he were in reality, but went back to sleep soon after recovering his senses. The latter was Reymond Ferguson, reporting that he felt as if something would attack if he dared to move. _

_ This is odd behavior as there were no complaints of night terrors being so frequent in the men before the experiment began. I can only imagine that this is the result of believing they are in a supposed haunted house, the house on Thurston Ave.  _

_ December 18, 1962 _

_ Journal of Dr. Arnold Hutch _

_ Today we moved the subjects to the house on Thurston Ave. They believe they were taken out for a stroll in the park and returned to where they were previously. They have no reason to believe they are anywhere else than where they were last week. The rooms look the same and the windows have been boarded up. I expect no different behavior. The more troubled group has proven to have similar night terrors to those of the control group, however, they tend to react in action more while the control group normally goes back to their usual sleep. I find it increasingly interesting that this study is proving to be less a study on paranormal activity within the mind and more of a study of how individuals react to nightmares. Hopefully, we get more on track with this house. In complete honesty, I now see why people say that it’s haunted. The walls seem to shift every time you enter a room. It’s unnerving to believers and skeptics alike (I speak of my colleagues when I say this). I expect tomorrow morning to have similar reports to last week. _

_ December 19, 1962 _

_ Journal of Dr. Arnold Hutch _

_ There was very little rest that happened last night. I myself found it difficult to do anything but stare at the odd water stain above my bed. There must be a leak somewhere that happened when we moved equipment in because it’s gotten bigger since my time asleep. The subjects here were… disturbed to say the least about the events. 6 out of 10 of the subjects with a history of psychosis reported at least one entity in their rooms at some point. Surprisingly, 7 out of 10 of the control group reported the same. Of the control group, 3 had suffered from second degree burns on their ankles, though there was no evidence on the cameras to suggest that they had done it themselves. There were reactions at 3:16am from all 3 of the subjects affected. This morning they were fighting with us to be released from the experiment, I cannot let them go. I find this strange and my colleagues and I are working on a logical response to these events. These are unexpected findings.  _

_ I am hesitant to say that one of the subjects has died for unknown reasons. It seems as if Wesley Knite passed in his sleep, a man in his late 20s, suffering from frequent delusions that he is someone called Catherine. An autopsy will be performed. As a result, I fear that my experiment will be of little repute or validity. To keep numbers even, we have released a subject from the control group as well, Tom Lockie, someone who has reported no events and has made little contribution to the experiment.  _

_ I feel compelled to continue, even if my research does not find publication. So I shall. _

_ December 20, 1962 _

_ Journal of Dr. Arnold Hutch _

_ Last night there was more activity. My own colleagues reported nightmares. I myself have not slept. I am keeping watch instead. The clocks have stopped working in the house, not just the ones brought by my team, but all wristwatches as well. I believe that I am out of my league here, though there is something here that I am on the brink of discovering.  _

_ All subjects reported paranormal activity last night to some extent. Many of the men appear to have been scratched or bitten. No burns tonight. Two of the subjects appear to have caused a large amount of damage to themselves. Emergency services were called on specific instructions that the subjects complete the last week of experimentation. I had my aforementioned friend come instead since emergency services were of no use. It’s strange how the cameras didn’t catch their injuries. I find myself more and more intrigued by the activity in this house. More experiments after this will be had, I think. There are too many questions to answer in one week.  _

_ December 21, 1962 _

_ Journal of Dr. Arnold Hutch _

_ One of my colleagues was rushed to the hospital late last night. We have no idea what happened. This morning I found a series of scratches down my neck I don’t recall making. Of the subjects, another has died of blood loss. There was no blood in his room. I won’t mention his name here. It’s far easier to not think about it much. This house is incredible, there is obvious proof that something is happening here and yet nothing is ever found on the cameras save for the subjects themselves. I am left wondering how something such as this occurs. I need more time here. Far longer than a week. I need to see what is truly happening and why and how. I have already called colleagues who have similar interests. They have all declined my invitations.  _

_ Tonight will be special I think. _

_ Review of the Germaine Experiment by the Rosenfeld Institute for Psychology _

_ Dr. Arnold Hutch has been terminated from our services. We regret to hear of his death during his experiment, though his colleagues have reported behavior that we do not wish to be associated with or in compliance with. Dr. Hutch’s results in the Germaine Experiment are inconclusive and not to be reported on at all. Any questioning on the matter will result in withholding future information and findings from the news source. We are not liable for any of the actions Dr. Hutch took while in 1327 Thurston Ave. Subjects affected, 16 of 18, have been provided treatment in the hospital as well as therapy services offered to all including Dr. Hutch’s colleagues.  _

“Papers from the time state that Dr. Hutch had a mental break in which he went into a calm state where he proceeded to murder 2 of his assistants, 3 of the subjects, put 6 in critical condition, and finally states that Dr. Hutch simply fell over. Dead. Odd, but not completely unheard of in cases like these. Security footage caught a lot of things happening that night, apparently. Dr. Hutch seems to have expelled something from his body when he fell. I can’t make out what it is, but it appears to be dark smoke of a sort? I’m not sure. There are plenty of other cases that reference the dark smoke. All too many cases of paranormal activity having an entity appear in black smoke or shadow. This one’s only different because there used to be a locket attached, something that apparently was important in the collection of this statement. I don’t have it now, though. Might have to do some digging for it, I can’t explain it, but it feels important to have.”

The Archivist sighs, switching off the recorder. This one was a lot, but it didn’t feel complete. It left the Archivist hungry.

The dreams were an interesting note. It was something that piqued Jon’s interest more than the apparent possession of Dr. Hutch. More only because it didn’t make sense. Of course it could have just been a string of bad luck for the nightmares and supposed paranormal activity to happen to the same people. A coincidence, but coincidences were less and less a proper explanation for these statements. See, Jon could pick out the ones that were filled with the best information, the most important information at that time. And for some reason, this was the one. 

The thoughts of the promised locket keep The Archivist up tonight, as statements and entities and other stresses usually did. His head was full of thoughts passing by, some sticking to the surface and repeating themselves, trying to make sense of themselves as they struggle not to get caught up in the whirlwind blasting around them. Martin snores gently next to him, though the usual calming sound of his partner’s breathing is drowned out terribly by his own mind, looping and spinning around the near endless possibilities. He might be the slightest bit scared of the nightmares reported within the statement, that dread you have to face in the inevitable unconsciousness that comes for everyone at some point. 

The Archivist can’t stay awake forever.

  
  
  
  



End file.
